The Oceanic Six: Ghost
by Penman Specialist
Summary: The Oceanic Six are part of a dim future, where conflicts are rampant. One of a series about the six, each story different to fit the week's episode, each relevent to last Thursday's epsiode and so forth. Season 4 spoilers. Flash-forward time.
1. Strange Encounters, New Identities

Jack Shepard drove home in anger. Why couldn't Kate see that they had to go back? She of all people, and her roommate had the most reason to WANT to go back, except maybe Hurley. He slammed his fists on the wheel as he pulled up to a stoplight.

And suddenly, it happened. Next to him, in the seat, for the third time, was Charlie. "Don't…don't do this to me, man." The ghost, or whatever, had been haunting him for awhile now.

"C'mon Jack. It's me." He held up his hands as if to signal 'stop'. His shades, and the tone of his words, made him the image of a psychedelic, Beatles-esque rock star.

"But…how?" Jack looked on, barely believing this, regardless. Wondering how it was possible, and how this apparition would be this cool and calm.

"You ask that every time." Charlie took off his shades, rolled his eyes as if bored. As if it were normal for a dead man to appear to a man three times.

"I need to know, Damnit!" Jack emphasized the word; as if somehow he'd get more sense out of Mr. Pace then he'd been able to the last two times.

"No you don't need anything. They need you." Charlie stared at him expectantly. _Does he do this just to hurt me? Who is he to play my conscience?_

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jack's eyes fell towards the road, in recluse sorrow and denial. Putting on the same façade to him as he had to the world.

"Yes you do. You told Kate, didn't you?" Charlie commented. It was true. He did tell Kate they had to go back. He'd like to think it meant him and Kate. Maybe, however, he was just warning her and-

"Yes, but…" He responded, if only to cut off his own horrible thought.

"You don't really want to return. And that's why the island hasn't let you…" Charlie revealed Jack's darkest fear. Which made Jack question the reality of this whole experience.

"I want to go, Damnit!" Jack yelled to the heavens, as if that was where Charlie had come from. Pleading with God to take Pace away and let him return.

"Then go." Even though he wanted Jack to leave, it was Charlie who disappeared. Ironically, along with his words, the light flashed green. Jack pulled ahead…and metal crunched. Jack's blurred vision faded, as a large figure came up to his window.

"What'd Jack want?" A male figure asked, dimly lit in a doorway, where two rooms lay off a kitchen and living room in a cozy apartment. Two babies could be heard cooing and gurgling peacefully, and a relaxation CD entitled 'Sounds of the Ocean' was playing in the background.

"Oh, you know him." Kate offhandedly remarked as she hung up the keys.

"I thought the same, once, ya know." The dirty-blonde haired man responded wistfully, as if giving Jack a nod of respect, despite obvious disagreement.

"Yes, Sawyer." She said as he stepped towards her, comforting. "And I…" She said slyly. "…Don't think that ever changed."

"What?" Sawyer snapped his head towards the CD player, a Toshiba model 815. "Nonsense. I had to play babysitter alone for two hours. And lemme tell you, it ain't the best."

"Well, between little Claire and Aaron…" They could barely call him little anymore, being about two and toddling around as he was. "I suppose a ruckus was bound to occur."

"No much more then my job." Sawyer commented, pointing to two rugged pairs of boots and the other numerous and seemingly random jackets hung on the door.

"I'm not so sure I approve of this." Kate cast a worried glance towards him, as they sat together on their couch.

"We're doing it for all the right reasons." Sawyer assured, her, stroking her back comfortingly and then rising to leave.

"Are you? Or are you doing this for HIS reasons?" Kate asked pointedly.

"Trust me. Jack's right. He was warning us. It was only so long before..." He glimpsed their false ID's. "Kristine and Christian Meadows were found out." He slipped on a leather jacket and some sneakers. Black Converses, to be exact. White socks, too. So it wasn't a formal event.

"Well, at least tell him-" Kate beckoned urgently.

"I can't TELL him anything. He's grown too powerful." Sawyer warned, shrugging as if there was nothing he could do and leaving.

"The Hanso Foundation…" Sayid tried to follow the logic of Richard Alpert, who was approaching him, one week after his return.

"…Has always been the enemy of the island." Ben Linus stepped out as well. Sayid grunted. Not like he hadn't expected him to show, as well.

"I'll never believe you." Sayid shook his head in disbelief. Ben had reconfirmed his doubt.

"Well you have to, after the freighter." Sayid stared at the ageless man intensely. Soured by that incident, and perhaps also at their good point.

"Desmond was a good man…and after what they…no, he…did…" Sayid wasn't generally one to drift, but he did, glowering at the invisible incident he remembered crystal clear.

"I agree completely. Too bad my mole turned against us." Ben said, and the sympathy even seemed sincere.

"R.G. has been more elusive than ever. What can we do?" Sayid was frustrated he hadn't uncovered this man's identity, while snooping on the ship and even for a week in the real world.

"Very little." Richard admitted.

"Then why do you continue?" He mocked, but now curious.

"Because we must. Our allies on the island have reasoning and power, too." Ben referred to Walt, and Locke, and many advantages Sayid could never know of. He smiled. A change in the tides had come. Sayid Jarrah was theirs.

Michael wanted to go back, too. Michael had wished he and Walt had just gotten away from the island. But they found that freighter, just as Ben, it turns out, had wanted. They were in constant communication, and all was well. Until Walt had visions again. Michael realized they were going back, and fought it.

Walt, however, said Ben didn't have the best interest of the island or the survivors at heart, and Locke was right. Diving in, he went back. Ever since, Michael had changed his mind to go back and worked with Ben more fervently then ever.

When Sayid and Desmond returned, he begged yet again to be on the helicopter to go back. Claiming they needed a week to repair the copter, he complied and learned from Sayid and Desmond the state of affairs on the island.

So afterwards, he had cut communication with Ben and, when the Freighters made it clear the three were never going back until it was deemed 'safe', the three staged a small riot and escape attempt, in which Desmond was killed.

Sayid escaped and took the copter to the survivors, kicking Michael out on the claim that it was his fault Desmond died, and having found his old communications with Ben. Pleas that he had changed not working, he resorted to drastic measures. Ever since, Michael had deemed him his enemy, and after months of groveling, the Freighters agreed to let him be a part of their team.

Everything went south after. Many encounters and such later, Jack led the survivors to capture the freighter, leaving Walt and Locke the sole Oceanic remnant on the island…so they thought. They even killed many of the members, leaving only Michael and Miles, whom they held in a cell on Sayid's orders.

The ship had drama of it's own as they tried to escape the seemingly impossible-to-flee island. Sawyer, however, was convinced by Michael and Michael to join them. Eventually, Sawyer spoke out, and was imprisoned with Michael and Miles.

When the boat began to sink, fighting the electromagnetic force of the deadly isle to escape, it ran aground other barriers too, each one a puzzle sent by either the Other's remnant or Walt and Locke. Walt and Locke had hidden Locke's group, save Hurley, who objected to his methods and began to follow Sawyer towards Jack. They were working together, each the other's disciple.

Nonetheless, everyone was forced to flee. In a selfish move, Jack grabbed the copter, and escaped with Sayid, Hurley, and Kate. Sawyer, Miles, and Michael had to fight the current on a lifeboat. Few know what became of the other survivors.

Charlie did. And he appeared to Hurley yet again, as many times as the man would deny him. "Dude." He greeted the jovial man with his favorite expression.

"Hey, Charlie." Hurley said, friendly yet nervous. He never liked what the man had to say, but he was his friend. And he did get him out of the asylum and back in a Camarro. A dented one, now.

"Was it REALLY not your fault?"

Hurley shifted in his seat nervously. "Sayid told me to get in or out. I…" He turned onto his street.

"You were selfish. They need you Hurley, need you to go back." Charlie affixed him with the dark, expressionless eyes that didn't seem to come from the shades. They came, to Hurley, from Hades itself. Or worse, the island.

"They died." Hurley denied, eyes forward and driving slightly faster.

"They didn't." Charlie responded simple as ever.

"Dude…." And you couldn't tell whether it was nervousness or fear. "…I think the dude that hit me was Jack." Hurley cast a glance to the backseat as he pulled in his driveway.

Charlie's grin wasn't telling. Whether it was wry, smiling at coincidence. Or because he arranged this. Hurley began to get out of the door.

"His light should've still been red, dude. Is Locke doing this? Causing these illusions, coincidences?" Hurley was always the brightest tool in the shed, though he may not seem it. You got through to him more than Jack, both were stubborn. Hurley's way of relating with humans might be why Charlie kept coming back to 'haunt' Hurley instead.

But of course, that was the moment, the moment when Hurley walked to look in the backseat window, when Charlie Pace vanished.


	2. Heavy Burdens, Hidden Motives

"C'mon guys." Miles hurried them along the busy streets of Verona, where they had been instructed, via cell, by the Foundation, to protect this economist that was helping the Foundation. Sayid was rumored to have been looking for him there a day or two ago.

"Never really liked that bast-" Sawyer grimaced as Miles pulled ahead of the pack.

"Hey. Aren't you all about surviving?" Michael offhandedly commented.

"Not if it means by busted around by a man with half of Jack's leading skills. That's why I left Locke. But at heart...I'm a loner, Michael." Sawyer muttered as they followed. They looked like tourists, at least. Sunglasses, the whole shebang.

"And I'm alone." Michael Dawson was a troubled soul. But he never let it through the tough exterior. Like Sayid had, they'd been driven to kill, seduce, and use very ounce of brawn and intelligence both. Only difference was, Mr. Jarrah was their target.

"Yeah, we all know your reasons-" Sawyer brushed him off as Miles kept an outlandish pace and they hurried to catch up without running. And soon, Sawyer found himself rammed into a wall of one of many cathedrals, hands behind his back, and unable to access his standard-issue phone or gun.

"Look. My son is in the hands of an insane man. I haven't seen him in years. Now Miles might be a controlling…" He bit his lip to bite off the words. "…But I am in charge here. I have more power then I ever wished, and it's all for nothing if I don't. Go. Back." He pronounced the words deliberately, almost threateningly.

He let go and all Sawyer could do was shake his. "Like that didn't blow our cover." He shrugged and continued to run off, determined to make sure this mission was the last one. These three always had been an uneasy alliance, each with their own motives. Time

Jack Shepard came out of a long day's work exhausted. A receptionist approached soon. "Mr. Shepard, there's someone here to see you. About the…crash." He turned his gaze to the lobby, and across the circular reception desk.

To see a dark-skinned bald man, looking rather old, or at least distinguished, but with no hair or frailties, approached. "I'm from Oceanic Airlines." He slid his business card across the reception counter to Jack. He remembered that this time.

"Look, I'm plenty happy with my settlement." Jack put up his hands and turned towards the guy after examining the card.

"Have you been pestered recently, Mr. Shepard? By the public, still?" He persisted. Suddenly, for no reason, Jack felt interrogated.

_Only by a dead man's ghost._ But of course Jack didn't say that. "No, sir." _Good_ thought the man. _He's too valuable, and we can't risk them finding out. _But it was always good to ask a follow-up.

"Just by anyone, at all?"

"No. Any other questions?" Jack was beginning to a bit put off by this man's questions. And then turned back at the next question.

"Do you happen to know where any of the other six are located?" Jack was truly perplexed. Surely the Company had kept tabs on all of them…except Kate and Sawyer, who were operating under a false name. He had gleaned that off the little contact he had with them.

"No sir. Well…Hurley-Hugo Reyes, that is…I'm sure he's in a medical institution nearby." He responded nonetheless. It couldn't hurt Hugo, who apparently had been...approached by this guy before. Now Jack began to grow suspicious.

"Not anymore." The man sounded as if he regretted it.

"Have a nice day sir." Jack managed to keep a straight face and act busy. He waved his handas if to rid himself of dampness on his hands, but inreality, it was to shrug off his burdens.

The man didn't notice this. He was too focused on hunting down these Six, to protect some and capture the rest. There were still battle lines drawn, nonetheless. The island, the survivors, centered around it. The man remembered the day that the company he pretended to work for talked with the Six. Or rather, four of them.

"Mr. Shepard, Mr. Shepard!" It seemed, at this news conference, that everyone was asking that to the obvious leader of the newly dubbed Oceanic Four. It had only been a day and the press arranged yet another conference.

"That's Dr. Shepard. But it's fine, it's fine. Yes?" He kindly responded. Scanning the newspeople, he pointed to a reporter, labeled Sue Herrera of the Sao Paulo Weekly.

"We were recently made aware that another boat with two more survivors made it so the shore of Panama earlier today. Your reaction?"

Jack's reaction was pain, guilt. And something small and nagging grew at him. But he pressed on with a calm exterior. "I'm glad to hear of it. Do you have their names?"

"Umm…."The reporter referenced her notes. "They give their names as Miles Straume and Michael Dawson, and state that there was a companion, a James Ford. Authorities could not find him in the nearby radius, but they stated he likely made it ashore."

Kate brightened instantly at hearing Sawyer was back. She knew, likely, he was running away from being noticed. But he was alive, and well! Sayid's face darkened, conversely, which was well noted by a shadowy figure in the corner. Hurley just looked worried as hell, as if both the other three and these two had reason to be angry with him. Jack merely relaxed.

They'd never hold it against him, hopefully. And they were off the island, so it's more than likely no one would wind up dead as a result of an argument. Trying to shake himself of the island mindset, he continued. "Well, again, that's great."

"Now, um, no more questions at this time. Thanks again." Hurley addressed them for the first time that day, still overcome with joy, awe and fear, he had fielded the least questions of the two. Sitting at the end, he relayed the message given from the wings.

Hurley Reyes was at home. Home. A word foreign to him for so long. The house wasn't too grandiose, or shabby. The savings account where his money had gone after the arrest and during the 'crazy bin' had accrued nicely. But Hugo was ready for a normal life, or what passed for it.

Maybe, he thought, he'd get a job. What, he had no clue. He sat there watching a new game show, scoffing at these people, greedy and thinking money was a blessing. Maybe it was, but his experience had soured him to it.

And the phone rang. Hurley stretched out his arm to the side-table where his Dew and cell phone rested. "Hurley Reyes."

"Hey, man. It's Jack." Hurley hit himself in the head. Not much, just a little. Should've recognized the number.

"Did you grow the beard, dude?" He asked. Jack laughed. For the first time in awhile

"Yeah, but it's not working." Jack smiled and continued with the chitchat. Pretending normal life, was, well, the norm for him.

"Not pleasing the ladies, then?" Hurley joked.

"Don't talk to me like it's fine and dandy." Jack got serious, and maybe a little defensive. His recent encounters with Kate and Sarah made that a bitter chord that now twanged amongst his hollow heart.

"Oh, so now you've got a problem Jack?" Hurley said, his undertone spelling anger for Jack not having helped him.

"You know what Hurley, I do!" He said indignantly. "I do." Softly this time, Jack repeated. "Sorry dude. Yeah…I'm trying to beat an addiction, Kate and Sarah won't talk to me."

"So sorry, man. About the uh…crash too." Hurley expressed regret better than anyone, even when it wasn't his fault.

"Yeah, that doesn't matter…listen, that's not why I called. That guy…talked to me too. I'm a bit nervous." Jack confided in him. His life was a wreck. Locke's words had been repeated to him, that he wasn't worthy of the island. A haunting on his hands, by a death-like man and a life-like ghost. The only good thing was

'He gave you the creeps, too?" Hurley said, half-joking, also worried and sounding like a scared little kid, and commiserating all at once. Even a bit of excitement that their leader was back.

"Yeah." Hurley could always make Jack smile, and that he did.

"Look, something's going on here." Hurley insisted.

"Tell me about it." Jack said, a little awkward about the ghost.

"Have you heard from Sayid?" Hurley asked, offhandedly, trying to shake his mind off of the odd events.

"Not since he moved to the Seychelles after the settlement." Jack responded.

"Michael?" Hurley asked, anxious. They had never gotten hold of him.

"Never." Both of them had always found that odd. Not too much, though, due to…the events that had happened. Besides Sayid, Desmond, and Sawyer, no one had really known Michael that well after he came to the freighter. Once his lot was with George Witchowski and Miles, his fate was determined.

"Sawyer?" The man asked about his best friend. Well, after Charlie, but…

"Through Kate." Jack admitted, slightly on edge still, and beginning to wonder WHY he could never talk to Sawyer himself.

"Same here, dude. Cept I've talked to Sawyer, and he's a bit shady." Hurley never really liked those nicknames, but it rejuvenated him to hear his friend.

"Edgy, like he thinks I'm still mad about him and Kate?" Jack wondered aloud.

"No…well, that too…but mysterious." Hurley wandereed, drifted away from the odd relationship between the three and towards the more distrubing, but easier to talk about topic.

"Odd. Y'know what, I'm off right now. Want to shoot some at the Y?" Jack suggested. He thought it'd be a nice way to meet, and allow him to forget his worries.

"Anytime I kick your butt at horse is a good day, Shepard." Hurley joked in agreement.

"Alright Hurley. See you there." And they hung up, happy. Unaware that it all would escalate very, very soon.


End file.
